


That's How You Found Me

by mickeylovesian



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:39:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylovesian/pseuds/mickeylovesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Ian knew each other growing up, but for one reason or another they never got together.  Ian joined the army and Mickey wound up in prison.  Now it is four years later and they are both out, although they are a little more broken than they let on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mickey

“Good luck, Milkovich. I don’t want to see you back in here. At least not for awhile.” Mickey scoffed at Ricky, the guard, who was holding out his jacket. It had been winter when he had been brought in four years before. 

“Nah man, I’m going straight. Won’t ever see me in here again,” Mickey said grabbing the jacket even though he wouldn’t need it now that it was summer. As we walked towards the door he turned around and added, “Don’t forget, you owe me at least fifteen drinks for all those bets you lost.”

“Yeah, well, you got my number,” Ricky said with a smile; Mickey laughed and waved once more. He had never expected it, but after four years of seeing Ricky almost every day he was going to miss him. He had become the closest thing to a real friend Mickey had found in prison, even if he was a guard. 

He walked through the double doors to sign the remaining paperwork which would make him a free man. When they had told him he would be getting released a year early he hadn’t actually believed them. He refused to actually get his hopes up just for them to be dashed and told that there had been a mistake and he had to stay his entire sentence. But, here he was, out after only four years instead of five, and although he wasn’t much, it was enough. If he had to stay in that place another year he didn’t know what he would do. 

“Milkovich?” the guard behind the counter asked when he handed him the papers. “Any relation to Terrance?”

“Unfortunately.”

“How’s he been? Haven’t seen him in here for a while. Must have turned over a new leaf.”

“He’s dead.”

“That makes more sense,” the guard said with a laugh. Mickey signed the last paper. “Well, you’re all set to go. You got a ride?”

“I should.”

“Well, good luck.”

“Thanks,” Mickey said. 

As soon as he stepped beyond the fence he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was the same sky and air and ground that had surrounded him within the yard, but now it came with the taste of freedom. He looked around for his ride. He had left a message at his house that he was getting out and that someone would have to pick him up, but didn’t see anyone. He sat down on the curb and waited for twenty minutes.

He heard the car before he saw it come over the hill, engine rattling and music blaring. Mandy pulled up in front of him with the biggest smile on her face. She jumped out of the car and practically ran around the hood.

“Fuckface!” she said enveloping him in a hug.

“Hey Mands,” He said, squeezing her a bit tighter.

“What? No loving nickname?”

“Not yet. I need a few hours to get used to being out before I can think of insulting you,” he said with a laugh. The truth was he was so happy to be out he couldn’t think of a single bad thing to say. Month long stints in juvie as a teen had not prepared him for four years hard time. Even his father’s stories had left out the truth; prison was an ugly, depressing place that could suck the life out of you if you let it.

“You ready to go?”

“Fuck yes,” Mickey said.

They had a three hour drive back to the city, so Mickey drove the first half while Mandy talked his ear off about life back on the southside.

“And Katie is pregnant again! Bitch already has three kids she can hardly take care of and she thinks it’s smart to have another one.”

“Mandy, I really don’t give a fuck. I gotta piss,” he said pulling off the highway and into a gas station. “You want anything?”

“Just a pack of Newports.”

When Mickey got back into the car Mandy’s feet were up on the dash and she was talking on the phone. 

“Ok, well I’ll be there. See you tonight!”

“What’s happening tonight? Got some gay ass welcome home party for me?”

“Um,” she hesitated. “Well it’s just Iggy and Tony are the only two around, and Tony’s got the kids…”

“Wait, you don’t?” He hadn’t wanted a party, but just knowing that she actually hadn’t planned one upset him.

“I just kind of have another party thing to go to tonight. I figured you could just crash it if you wanted.”

“And who the fuck could be more important than your favorite brother?”

“Ian Gallagher. He just got done with the Marines.”

“You’re ditching me for a fucking Gallagher?”

“Well, yeah. But you can totally come. I’m sure it won’t be a big deal.”

“That’s fucked up, bitch,” he said, lighting a cigarette. 

He hadn’t thought about Ian Gallagher in years. He was sure Mandy had told him that he had enlisted, but it didn’t ring any bells. When Mandy had first started dating him Mickey had been confused; why would she want to be with someone who was so skinny, was covered in freckles and had fucking red hair? He didn’t often pay attention to the people his sister had dated, but Gallagher was different. 

Mainly it was because he was always at their fucking house, sitting on their couch, playing his video games. When they started spending all of their time at the Gallagher house he didn’t see much of Ian, besides at the store where he worked and Mickey stole from. He wouldn’t admit it, but he kind of missed having him around. He had grown used to the way he used to laugh at Mickey’s stupid jokes or how they would catch eye contact and he would roll his eyes at something dumb Mandy said. 

He took a drag of his cigarette as another memory came to mind, one he had tried to repress for years. It had been summer, probably six or seven years back, but it seemed like it was just yesterday. He couldn’t remember which Gallagher she had been fucking at the time, only that she was practically living with them. She owed Mickey money for some coke and he was running out of time to deliver, and since she was never home he had to go and find her. 

After banging on the Gallagher’s door for a good five minutes he made his way to the backyard where he found Ian in the pool with the little black kid they all claimed was their brother. 

“Yo, is Mandy around?”

“She went to the movies with Lip,” Ian said, eyeing him.

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She owes me 50 bucks.”

“She should be back in an hour or so.”

“I need it now.” He remembered he had lit a cigarette at this point while Ian had stared at him.

“I can pay you and get the money from Mandy later.” Mickey had thought it over for a minute. How could this kid be nice enough to pay his sister’s debts?

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” Then, and this image is what haunted Mickey the most, Ian got out of the pool and Mickey had to force himself to look away. Sometime in the past few months since he had last seen him, Ian had seriously bulked up. Water dripped down his ripped chest and over his six pack and down to where Mickey could see the beginnings of a red happy trail. Up close, although Mickey was disappointed to see that most of his freckles had begun to fade away on his face, they still covered his shoulders and back. Ian went to his wallet, took out a fifty and handed it to him, looking him straight in the eye. “Here.”

“Thanks man,” Mickey said, shifting his gaze down to the money. “Make sure Mandy pays you back.”

“I will,” Ian said smiling. Mickey smiled back involuntarily. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments before the sound of the kid splashing in the pool brought them back to reality. 

“You’re lucky to have a pool. It’s hot as balls today.”

“You want to jump in?” Mickey had actually considered it for a minute; anything to stay near shirtless Ian for a while longer, but then he remembered he had shit to do and he shouldn’t even be thinking about Ian without his shirt on anyway. 

“Got too much shit to do.”

“Well, if you ever want to, just hit me up,” Ian had said.

“Yeah, ok. Thanks again for the money,” Mickey said, and after taking one last look at Ian as he got back into the pool, walked away. 

He never did go for a swim, but for the rest of the summer, whenever the heat was almost unbearable he would think about Ian in his swimsuit, water dripping down his chest.

They arrived home in the early afternoon; they hadn’t talked much the rest of the car ride. The last of Mickey’s annoyance fled when he saw that his sister had at least taken the time to hang up the old, very used “Welcome Home” banner outside the house. 

Although the house looked the exact same on the outside, he was shocked when he walked through the doors. After their father had died he had left the house to Mandy and she certainly had changed the place. Gone were all the weapons and dirty clothes, and while there were still a few beer bottles around, it was the cleanest he had ever seen it. She had hung framed posters over the bullet and fist holes and had even ripped up the blood and dirt stained carpet.

“Jesus Christ, your Mandy fucking Homemaker,” he said.

“Yeah well, it’s easier to keep clean without you fucking assholes living here. Plus, I’m thinking about selling it.”

“What? You can’t do that.”

“Why not? All the happy memories?” Mickey looked around; there was the couch where he had fucked his first girl and realized it wasn’t for him, and over there in the dining room was where he had come home and found his mother dead in her own vomit, and in the kitchen was where his father had first broken a beer bottle over his head for talking back. 

“I guess you’re right. It would just be weird to think of some other family living in this house.”

“Well, I haven’t decided anything yet.”

A few hours later, after a shower and a nap, Mickey was going through his room when Mandy poked her head in.

“I left your room the exact same.”

“I can tell,” he said with a smile. 

“I’m heading over to the Alibi for the party if you want to come.”

“Do we got any beer?”

“No.”

“Alright. I’ll come.”


	2. Mickey

The bar was crowded for a Tuesday night, but Mickey figured that had to do with the entire Gallagher clan being there. Lip was the first to greet them; he and Mandy hugged awkwardly. Since she hadn’t mentioned him once that day, Mickey knew that they must have broken up at some point during his stay in prison. 

“Hey Mick! When did you get back?” Lip asked, holding out his hand. Mickey stared at it. Since when did people on the Southside shake hands?

“Today,”

“Oh wow,” he said. “You and Ian both.”

Mick nodded, already uncomfortable. Kevin was still behind the bar, at least that much hadn’t changed. He got his attention and ordered three shots.

“Where’s Ian?” Mandy asked Lip.

“He was just here. Must be around somewhere. Shots! Nice,” Lip said point to the shots on the bar. Mickey had planned on taking them all himself, but now he handed one to Mandy and Lip, before holding up two fingers to tell Kev he would need two more. Mandy raised hers in a toast.

“To you Mick! To getting out and staying out!”

“Cheers,” he mumbled before downing back the whiskey. The familiar burning sensation was as welcome to him as his own bed had been. He hadn’t gotten properly drunk in years. He downed the next two quickly before ordering a beer. If he was going to be surrounded by these people on his first night home, he was at least going to be drunk. 

Fifteen minutes later Mickey found himself involved in a conversation with one of the younger Gallaghers, Corey or something, about prison. Mandy was talking to the redheaded girl and the man of the house had still not emerged from wherever he had gone. 

“Did you fuck anyone in there? My friend Hank’s father said dudes fuck in there. Did you give it? Or take it?”

“I’m not a fucking faggot,” Mickey said, before pushing him out of the way to go to the bathroom. The whiskey had hit him sooner than he expected. It was too hot in the bar and he needed some air. He bypassed the bathroom and went out the back exit to the dumpsters. 

He stood under the light by the backdoor and lit a cigarette. Something moved in the shadows and Mickey jumped. A tall, muscular figure emerged from around a dumpster.

“Hey,” Ian Gallagher said, stepping into the light.

“Jesus fuck, Gallagher! Why the fuck you creeping in the shadows like that?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just weird.”

“I just needed to get away for a minute. Too many people in there.”

“Yeah, you Gallaghers are pretty annoying,” Mickey said and Ian smiled. Mickey held out his pack of cigarettes. Ian shook his head.

“I quit.”

“Don’t be a fucking douche. I don’t offer my smokes to just anyone.”

“Well when you put it that way,” Ian said, taking one. Mickey flicked his lighter open, holding it as Ian leaned in. 

“Heard you survived the Army. Congrats on not getting blown up.”

“Marines.”

“Whatever.”

“Heard you went to prison. Congrats on not getting stabbed,” Ian said with a grin.

“Yeah well, we always knew it was only a matter of time until I ended up there.”

“Mandy told me about your father. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Mickey said, really looking at Ian for the first time. His head was shaved, and his muscles were visible through his shirt even in the dim street light. Mickey hated to admit that he looked good. “What about your dad? He still kicking?”

“Unfortunately. Thank God he’s not here tonight though. I wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

The backdoor opened and before Mickey had a chance to respond Lip poked his head out. “Ian get the fuck in here! It’s your party,” he said before dipping back inside and letting the door slam behind him.

“I didn’t even want a party. I just wanted a nice family dinner.”

“Yeah well, you better get back in there. Mandy’s been waiting for you, and you know how she gets.”

“Yeah,” he said, stomping on his cigarette and opening the door. “You coming in?”

“Nah, I’m pretty tired. Think I’m just gonna head home,” Mickey said. He could have sworn Ian’s smile faltered a bit. “It was good to see you though.”

“You too. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Mickey said. He turned around and walked down the alley, fighting the desire the turn back and wave. 

Although the walk home was short, Mickey smoked three cigarettes, thought of Ian and cursed himself silently. That summer when Ian had consumed his thoughts had been torture. He prided himself on being above emotions such as love, or even liking someone. He saw what love, for lack of a better word, had done to his mother and wanted no part of it. He fucked who he wanted, when he wanted and rarely ever saw them again. But those reoccurring thoughts of Ian had really fucked him up and had been one of the first times he had ever really thought about the fact that he was gay. 

Of course he knew that the fact that he would rather fuck—or be fucked by—guys would have tipped most people off, but for Mickey sex was just sex. He was horny, he got off, what did it matter if it was to a guy or girl? He knew then he would never be able to openly fuck a guy, not with his father, but it didn’t really bother him. But thinking about Ian did. 

Mandy would have called it a crush and thinking about it, even now, still made Mickey want to throw up. He was above that; above it then and above it now, but as he lit his fourth cigarette, he let his mind wander back to Ian in the pool all those years before.


	3. Ian

Ian watched Mickey walk down the alley, let the door close, and looked at his watch. He had wasted almost a half hour outside and knew that he really did have to get back inside, but all he wanted to do was chase after Mickey and escape from it all.

 

The night before, when he had landed in Chicago, he had been excited to see his family. It had been nine months after all. They had all been at the airport waiting for him at baggage claim with signs and balloons. Fiona and Debbie had cried and Lip hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

“You made it! Didn’t get shot or blown up or anything!” Lip had said pounding him on the back.

“Back in one piece,” Debbie said.

“Yup,” Ian had responded although he wasn’t so sure if it was true.

He had been back in the US for two months already, but it had only taken a week for the tremors to start. He would find himself holding a beer, joking with friends and soon his hand would be covered in the liquid that was once in his glass. No one would mention it, but he knew he couldn’t be the only one. He found it so strange that they slept, showered, and killed next to each other for four years; had had each others backs in the most frightening of situations, but they were too afraid of what was going on in their own minds. Back home, it was every man for himself. 

The insomnia came a bit later, but when it hit, it hit hard. Most nights he couldn’t even fall asleep without being drunk, and even then it didn’t come until four-five in the morning. He just couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes without seeing the sun rise on a new day. 

Still, Lip was right. He hadn’t been shot or blown up, which is more than he could say for some of his friends. His thoughts shift to Chase and he squeezed his eyes tight.

Carl pestered him the entire car ride back into the city and even though Fiona had a whole dinner planned, Ian feigned exhaustion and went upstairs. Carl had refused to give up his own room so Ian was stuck bunking with Liam. He didn’t mind; he had left when Liam had been three, so he barely even knew the kid.

He had laid in bed staring at the ceiling counting the glow-in-the-dark stars that Debbie must have hung up into some of the more famous constellations. For he allowed himself to pretend that he was lying in the back of Chase’s pick up truck, looking at all the stars in the Montana sky as if for the first time. The world had seemed so big then, so endless; Ian was sure that they would have plenty of more opportunities to lie under the stars. 

He had faked sleep when Liam came in to bed and spent the next three hours lying there waiting for everyone in the house to fall asleep before he left to walk the streets of Chicago with a bottle of bourbon. Sunrise found him lying on the pitchers mound at the field where he had played little league searching the sky for a trace of his past.

 

Ian squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and went back inside. The music, laughter and the smell of stale beer and cigarettes hit him all at once. He had tried to tell Fiona that being around this many people was the last thing he wanted, but he hadn’t been able to figure out how to explain without sounding like a bitch about it.

He hadn’t made it two feet into the bar before Mandy was flinging her arms around him and squeezing him as if she would never let go. Deep down, Mandy had been the one he had wanted to see the most. The two of them just had an understanding; that night when he had called her unable to speak from the sobs, she had sat on the phone with him and just let him cry. She didn’t ask and he didn’t tell, but it was almost as if she had been there holding him. 

“I am so happy you are home,” She said quietly into his ear.

“Me too,” he said, and for a moment he really meant it. They pulled a part and he really looked at her. She had cut her hair; it made her look older, and she had gained a little weight, but it looked good on her. She looked like she was happy. “You look great.”

“So do you,” Mandy said. “Shots?

“Shots,” Ian agreed. The more alcohol he drank the easier it would be to get through this. Also, the easier it would be to black out and fall asleep.

“Did you see Mickey around? Should I get him a shot?”

“I saw him; he said he was just going to go home,” Ian said. 

“How was he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he seem different?” Mandy asked.

“Not particularly,” Ian said, but the more he thought about it, the more Mickey had seemed different. He had never been close to Mickey, would never have really considered him a friend, but he hadn’t exactly been the brash kid he had remembered. It seemed he had been subdued. “Then again, it has been four years though right?”

“Yeah,” Mandy said quietly. She lifted her shot glass. “To You Ian Gallagher!”

Everyone in the bar raised his or her classes and toasted to Ian’s safe return. 

Ian fell into a routine over the next few weeks; sleep till one or two, eat, workout, hang with his family, walk through the Southside getting drunk on alcohol and memories and watch the sun rise. He would lie there, on the field, letting his mind take over, always careful to stop it before he couldn’t wrestle back control.

Sometimes he thought about Chase, although he tried not to. When it all got to be too much he would squeeze his eyes shit and move on. He would think about sex instead. He would think about Alec, the guy he had spent that crazy weekend with when he was leave in New Orleans to years before, or Tomas, who he had dated for about two months while he had been in South Carolina. And sometimes, for reasons he couldn’t explain, he thought of Mickey. 

It had been surreal to see him at the party after so many years. The last time he remembered seeing him had actually been at Mandy’s high school graduation party. He remembered how they had sat on the back steps after everyone had passed out and shared a final joint together, toasting to the summer and to freedom. Ian had gone to basic training later that summer and that winter Mickey had been sent to prison. 

He hadn’t been surprised when Mandy had told him he had been arrested; he had always been in and out of juvie. He had been surprised when he heard that he had been sentenced to five years. Armed robbery will do that. He had been a little bit sad when he heard the news; he had always secretly hoped that Mickey would be the first to break the mold, turn his life around and do something with it. 

Ian had never even told Mandy but he had always had a crush in Mickey. It was just something about the bad boy that drew Ian in. He scared the shit out of him but he also excited him to no end. He lived for the days on Mandy’s couch when Mickey would be bored enough to play video games with them, or get high with them. One time Mickey even helped Ian with his math homework; Ian never forgot the look on Mandy’s face when Mickey got the answer right. 

Ever since he was a teen Ian had found himself strangely attracted to dark haired men with tattoos and bad attitudes. If they were shorter than him it was even better. Until he saw Mickey again at the party he hadn’t actually put two and two together that he was basing his preferences off him. 

Then he had been there, and so quickly he had walked away. He wished Mickey had stayed longer at the party, or maybe that he had had the guts to run after him and just get away.

 

One afternoon around two he came downstairs to find Fiona at the table sorting bills. 

“Nothing really changes, does it?” She asked and Ian wanted to tell her how wrong and right she was at the exact same time but he didn’t. “Here we are, four years later, still scrounging for cash.”

“Well I’m going to look for a job today. I’ve wasted enough time doing nothing,” Ian said, grabbing a banana.

“I thought you could sign up for a few classes for the fall. You know, take advantage of that GI Bill!” Fiona said with a smile.

“I think I’m going to wait until spring so I can give myself more time to get back into the swing of things. Plus, the GI Bill doesn’t go as far as it used to; I’m going to need to save some money,” He said. 

“Where are you going to look? I think the bank down on 43rd is looking for a teller,” she said. “good hours and money.”

“I was thinking of maybe bartending or something. You know. Night shift,” Ian said. 

“But then we would never see you! We just want you back you gotta let us smother you a bit,” she said. He didn’t want to tell her that that was exactly his reasoning behind getting a night job, on top of the fact that he was already up so he might as well do something useful. Every single day he stayed in this house surrounded by his siblings he felt the walls closing in on him. He loved them, but he just wished for once they would leave him alone. He held his tongue; he didn’t want to hurt her.

“It won’t be that bad,” Ian said before leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. He grabbed a water bottle and headed outside.

 

Three hours later he was back in the Southside and still didn’t have a job. He had gone to three different bars in Boystown, but none of them needed bartenders, only dancers and he wasn’t that desperate. He was a few blocks from home when he saw a Help Wanted sign in a familiar window.


End file.
